Chapter Seven
Daisy
I locked the door to my room, my heart racing after seeing Hayden and Ariana arrive at the Inn together. That image—her arm looped through his, cameras flashing all around them—burned into my brain like I'd never be able to unsee it. I dropped onto the bed, trying to shake it off, but jealousy churned in my stomach like I'd swallowed acid.
Why should I even care? I came to Wintervale with one goal: to show off my designs, win that "Best in Bloom" prize, and finally prove to my family—and maybe to myself—that my love for flowers isn't just some silly hobby. Getting hung up on a guy was never part of the plan, especially not one who'd shared one amazing night with me before disappearing at sunrise. Yet here I was, stewing because he seemed perfectly happy with Ariana.
You broke things off with Grant specifically to avoid this kind of drama , I reminded myself. Focus on your business instead . But all the logic in the world couldn't ease the ache spreading through my chest.
I kicked off my shoes and paced around the small room, stopping at the window that overlooked the orchard. On any other night, the peaceful view might have calmed me down. Now it just reminded me of what I'd been daydreaming about—walking among those trees with Hayden, listening to him geek out about pollination or soil nutrients with the same excitement I got when talking about flower arrangements. Nobody else had ever really gotten that side of me—how I saw the perfect marriage of art, color, science, and scent in what I did. My family was all about practicality: doctors, lawyers, people with "real careers." I was the oddball who insisted that bringing flowers into people's lives actually mattered. Pretty stupid to keep hoping someone would get it.
But Hayden had gotten it. Our hookup wasn't only about sex. We'd stayed up whispering about flower meanings and how they've carried secret messages for centuries. He'd told me about pollinator corridors and how everything in nature fits together perfectly. We connected over the idea that beauty matters most because it doesn't last forever—that it's special exactly because it's temporary. It felt like finding someone who actually liked the real me, not some version I was supposed to be. Then morning came, and we went our separate ways—using fake names to keep things casual. Neither of us thought we had room in our real lives for anything more than that night.
Now, watching him parade around with Ariana for the cameras—like they were this perfect celebrity couple—made my chest tighten painfully. Had that spark between us last year meant nothing? Get it together, Daisy. He had every right to date or flirt with whoever he wanted. I had no claim on him. I'd told myself I didn't want one. But tonight made that lie painfully obvious—seeing him with Ariana felt like someone had punched me right in the gut.
I dug through my suitcase for something to sleep in, fighting back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. He was never yours anyway. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath. My family had always treated my flower business like some quirky phase I'd eventually outgrow. Grant had called it my "cute little hobby." Over time, I'd become obsessed with proving them all wrong. But maybe I'd been looking at it all wrong—maybe I didn't need to prove anything to anyone. Maybe I just deserved to be happy. Like flowers—beautiful for a little while and valuable precisely because of that. Had Hayden seen that in me?
I let out a bitter laugh. If he had seen the real me, it clearly didn't matter much. Ariana was the famous "Floral Sweetheart," leaning against him while cameras flashed. My stomach twisted as I imagined them going back to her room together. Tears threatened, but I blinked them away. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. I changed into a tank top and sleep shorts, telling myself to get some rest before tomorrow's final festival day. The disaster with my ruined arrangement had already drained me emotionally. I needed to keep my head in the game for the competition.
The soft light from my bedside lamp stretched shadows across the flowered wallpaper, highlighting how cozy this Inn should have felt. But I couldn't find any comfort in it tonight. When I caught my reflection in the mirror, all I saw were tense shoulders and puffy eyes. I should sleep, but who was I kidding—there was no way I'd sleep well with all these thoughts spinning through my head. Still, I sat on the edge of the bed, taking deep breaths to try to calm myself down.
A soft knock at my door made me freeze. My heart jumped. Maybe Rory with fresh towels? Or Cass with news about tomorrow? But something in my gut told me it wasn't either of them. I swallowed hard and walked to the door. Another light tap, more hesitant this time. I turned the handle cautiously, bracing myself for whatever was on the other side.
It was Hayden. His hair was rumpled like he'd been running his fingers through it nervously, and his eyes showed a mix of regret and determination. My pulse raced, but I kept my face neutral, not wanting to show how much he affected me.
He let out a breath. "Daisy... I'm sorry to barge in. Can we talk for a minute? It's important."
My first instinct was to say a firm no thank you and slam the door, but something raw in his voice made me hesitate. "One minute," I agreed, stepping back. The tension between us was thick enough to cut as he walked in. I closed the door and crossed my arms over my chest. "I saw your fancy date with Ariana. Congrats on all the photo ops. You two make quite the power couple."
He winced, his forehead creasing. "That's exactly what I need to explain." He glanced at the lamp's soft glow, then back at me. "It's all fake, Daisy. The sponsor set the whole thing up. They're pushing this storyline about professional collaboration... with a romantic angle. They want me and Ariana to look like we're dating for publicity." His voice dropped lower. "I swear to you, none of it is real."
I let out a bitter laugh. "Could've fooled me. You looked pretty comfortable with her arm around you."
"No," he said, his voice cracking with urgency. "It's just an act. The sponsor pressured me. They dangled this contract extension for my next book if I played along. Apparently, Ariana's fame is valuable to them. I felt... cornered." He brought his hands together almost like he was begging. "I hate every second of it. This was never what I wanted."
I scrutinized him, maintaining my defensive posture while battling internal turbulence. "Am I expected to believe you were manipulated into accompanying her around town, engaging in affectionate displays? The charade appeared remarkably credible from my vantage point."
His gaze descended momentarily. "Ariana craves attention—and it’s quite clear she’ll do whatever those around her say will keep her in the spotlight. Artifice is her game, not mine. Believe me, I couldn’t have been more miserable throughout the entire evening tonight." A harsh exhalation escaped him. "Daisy, please understand—this scenario represents everything I abhor. Ariana holds zero personal interest for me."
Hope flickered treacherously in my chest, though I maintained outward skepticism. "What exactly motivates this confession? Conscience-clearing before returning to your sponsorship obligations?"
He winced. "No, I'm telling you the truth because you deserve to know what's really going on. I already told Ariana—and my publisher—that I'm out. I can't go along with this fake dating charade anymore. If I lose the book contract, so be it. There won't be any more photo ops tomorrow. I just can't stand the dishonesty." He stepped closer, his eyes searching mine. "I hate that you might think there's something real between me and Ariana. There never was, not for a second."
Something in his voice started to chip away at my defenses. "You had reasons last year for not wanting to stay in touch," I said carefully. "If our night together meant anything to you, why wait until we randomly ran into each other again?"
He sighed deeply, running his fingers through his hair. "The book deadline was killing me at the time. Teaching full-time while trying to finish writing... I felt like I couldn't breathe, let alone start something new. And we had that whole anonymous thing going, right? I told myself I was doing you a favor by not complicating your life. But I thought about you all year." His voice had a slight tremor. "Seeing you again brought it all rushing back. I realized how much I missed everything about you—the way you see the world, your amazing talent with flowers... just you, all of you."
My pulse quickened as conflicting feelings of anger and longing crashed together. "So you regret how we left things?"
He swallowed hard. "Completely. I'd change it in a heartbeat if I could. That's why I'm here now, taking a chance you might slam the door in my face. You deserve the truth, even if it's uncomfortable for me to admit." Another step brought him closer. His familiar scent surrounded me—woodsy cedar with hints of citrus. Memories of our night together came flooding back with dizzying intensity.
For a moment, my resolve faltered, tears threatening to spill. "Hayden, I'm scared to trust anyone. Letting my guard down just sets me up to get hurt." I could still hear my ex's dismissive comments echoing in my head. "I promised myself no more heartbreak."
His expression softened. "Daisy, if you want me to leave, I will. No questions asked. But please believe me—nothing you saw with Ariana was real. I have zero interest in playing celebrity couple for the cameras. But you... you're all I can think about." He reached out tentatively, brushing a strand of hair from my face with gentle fingers. "I've been thinking about you since I walked away last year, even though I was too stubborn and busy to do anything about it."
My breath caught as I felt the warmth of his hand against my cheek. The tension that had been building since we ran into each other finally ignited, turning into undeniable desire. "I want to believe you," I whispered. "Because honestly, I couldn't forget you either. Seeing you with Ariana hurt more than I want to admit." My heart pounded in my ears.
He leaned closer, his eyes focused intently on mine. "Then let me fix this. No more pretending. I just want to be real with you." His hand settled on my waist, waiting to see if I'd pull away. Instead, I found myself drawn toward him, the longing I'd tried to ignore blooming again. His gaze dropped to my lips. "Daisy," he whispered, "I—"
I cut him off by rising on my tiptoes and pressing my lips to his. He made a surprised sound in his throat before pulling me against him, his arms wrapping around me like he'd never let go. The moment our lips touched, a wave of intensity crashed through me, releasing a year's worth of bottled-up wanting. Our kiss turned hungry and deep, each taste making me crave more. My anger about Ariana, my confusion—it all melted away under the burning need to have him again.
He pulled back slightly, breathing hard. "Are you sure?" he whispered, his fingers gently tracing my cheek.
"Yes," I said, my voice shaking with need. The pull between us was too strong to deny anymore. "I need this. I need you."
His answer was another kiss, deeper this time, erasing any doubt I might have had. My blood rushed hot through my veins, heat pooling between my thighs. He moved us until my back pressed against the wall next to the bed. The lamp cast our shadows large against the wall as I moaned softly when his mouth found that sensitive spot where my neck curves into my shoulder. My fingers fumbled with his shirt buttons, desperate to feel his skin. The shirt fell open, revealing his chest—firm and familiar, every muscle exactly as I remembered from our night together.
Our clothes came off in a hurried mess: my tank top pulled over my head, his pants dropped to the floor, my underwear sliding down my legs with his help. The feeling of his bare skin against mine made my head spin. All my frustration transformed into hunger, a deep ache to have him completely.
We stumbled toward the bed, half-laughing at how clumsy we were, half-crazy with wanting each other. His mouth left a trail of hot kisses along my collarbone while his hands squeezed my hips, each touch sending shivers through me that made me gasp. I dragged my nails lightly down his back, making him groan deep in his throat. That sound alone made me even wetter, making me press my body against his hardness.
His hands slid under me, fingers spreading across my lower back, pulling me closer. "God, you're gorgeous," he whispered against my hot skin, his lips brushing me as he spoke. "Even better than I remembered."
I nipped at his earlobe, loving how he sucked in a sharp breath. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him against me, closing any space between us. The friction made us both moan as our bodies remembered exactly how to move together, like we'd never been apart.
When his mouth moved down to my breasts, I arched my back, my fingers tangling in his hair. His tongue circled my nipples, sometimes gentle, sometimes more demanding, until they were so sensitive I could barely stand it. My hips rocked against him instinctively, silently begging for more.
His hand slid between my legs, teasing me with light touches up my inner thighs until I squirmed beneath him. When his fingers finally found my center, I gasped loudly in the quiet room. He knew exactly how to touch me, watching my face as he circled my clit with perfect pressure that scattered my thoughts.
I wanted to make him feel as good as he made me feel. I pushed gently against his chest until he rolled onto his back. The surprise in his eyes turned to heat as I trailed kisses down his torso, feeling the muscles tense beneath my lips. I took my time, savoring the salt of his skin, the rapid rise and fall of his breathing.
"Daisy," he whispered, the word catching as my tongue traced the line of muscle that disappeared beneath his boxers. I tugged them down slowly, my eyes locked with his as his erection sprang free. I wrapped my fingers around him, enjoying his sharp intake of breath.
I teased him with slow strokes at first, watching how his jaw clenched with restraint. When I finally lowered my mouth to him, his hands tangled in my hair with a groan that sent a thrill through me. I took him deeper, alternating between gentle suction and long, slow licks that made his thighs tense under my palms.
"God, that's amazing," he murmured, his voice strained. His hips moved slightly, carefully, as I worked him with my mouth and hand together. The power of bringing him such pleasure was intoxicating.
Just when his breathing became ragged, he gently guided me up. "Wait," he said, pupils dilated with desire. "I don't want to finish like this."
He flipped us over in one fluid motion, his mouth finding mine in a passionate kiss before moving down my body. "My turn," he whispered against my skin.
"I want to taste you," he murmured, shifting lower. Before I could respond, his mouth replaced his fingers between my legs. I cried out, arching off the bed as his tongue worked magic, his strong hands holding my thighs apart. He looked up at me, the sight nearly pushing me over the edge.
"Hayden," I gasped, my voice raw. "I want you inside me."
He kissed his way back up my body, positioning himself between my thighs. Our eyes locked as he slowly pushed inside. We both froze, overwhelmed by the perfect connection. The world disappeared, narrowing to just us and this moment we'd found again.
He moved with deep, measured strokes, each one hitting exactly where I needed. I clutched his shoulders as pleasure built in waves. His pace quickened as my hips rose to meet his, our bodies finding rhythm as if we'd never been apart.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him deeper. He groaned against my neck, his forehead pressed to mine as our breathing mingled. His hand slipped between us, fingers finding my clit.
"Look at me," he said softly. "I want to see your face when you come."
The combined sensations—him filling me, his fingers circling my clit, his intense gaze—sent me spiraling into orgasm. Pleasure shattered through me in pulsing waves as I cried out his name.
Watching me unravel broke his control. His thrusts became urgent, his breathing harsh. When he came moments later, he moaned my name like a prayer, his body shuddering against mine.
We collapsed onto the tangled sheets, sweaty and breathing hard. The lamp's soft glow highlighted the sheen on our skin as our hearts raced together. My fingers traced lazy patterns over his chest, feeling it rise and fall rapidly. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, resting his forehead against mine.
"Daisy," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I've missed you so much."
Tears pricked my eyes as emotions swirled through me, realizing we'd found something I thought was gone forever. "I missed you too," I admitted, still catching my breath. "I tried to forget, but I couldn't. Not really."
He pressed soft kisses along my shoulder, his arms wrapping around me as we curled together under the rumpled sheets. My body still tingled with aftershocks of pleasure, and I could feel his heartbeat gradually slowing against my chest. All the tension from the festival, the jealousy—everything melted away into this peaceful bubble. For the first time since I arrived in Wintervale, I felt truly calm.
We stayed like that for a long time, exchanging gentle touches and enjoying the afterglow. Every so often, he'd brush my hair away from my face and kiss my temple softly. My heart squeezed with feelings I hadn't expected. I hadn't realized how lonely I'd been, trying to make it on my own as a florist with something to prove. Lying in his arms, I remembered how good it felt to let someone in, to share my excitement about each flower, each bloom that made the world more beautiful.
"I don't know how tomorrow's judging will go," I mumbled against his neck. "But I feel stronger now, if that makes sense."
His fingers traced patterns on my arm. "It does. And I'll be right there cheering you on. No more Ariana nonsense. I'm done with the sponsor's fake storylines."
I smiled and snuggled closer. "Are you ready for the fallout? They won't be happy about losing their little love story."
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "They'll get over it or they won't. I care about plants, not playing pretend romance for cameras. I can handle whatever comes." His arms tightened around me. "Besides, I've got more important things to focus on now."
A warm feeling spread through me. Eventually, exhaustion took over, my eyelids getting heavy as I relaxed against him. Tomorrow would bring new challenges—that was certain. But tonight, we had this safe little bubble.
We drifted in and out of sleep, always wrapped in each other's arms. During one of those half-awake moments, I watched his peaceful face in the soft lamplight. Maybe I never needed my family's approval or my ex's validation. Maybe I didn't need to keep trying to prove myself to everyone else. Maybe I could rest into the belief that I was good enough just the way I am.
I kissed Hayden’s collarbone gently, his skin still a little damp from earlier. He mumbled something sleepily and pulled me closer as a tiny spark of hope lit up inside me.